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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557038">Vices That Follow a Man</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironxprince/pseuds/ironxprince'>ironxprince</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Powers, BAMF Peter Parker, Blood, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt Peter Parker, Minor Character Death, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Police, Police Brutality, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:13:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557038</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ironxprince/pseuds/ironxprince</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple of thugs try to steal Peter from right under Tony's nose. Little do they know, Peter is prepared to fight back.<br/>But he goes too far.</p><p>Please read the tags. Police brutality isn't explicit; just a couple of violent officers.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker &amp; Tony Stark</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>141</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Vices That Follow a Man</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They attacked fast, charging forward just as Tony and Peter were about to step into the Stark tower, one with a knife and one with a gun - two total. They had been waiting by the entrance, blending in with the tourists and New York civilians, and so neither Tony nor Peter noticed until the one with a knife grabbed Peter by the collar of his shirt, pulled him back, and braced one arm around his chest while pressing the blade just under his chin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter froze, gasp catching in his throat as Tony turned, panicked, with wide eyes. Civilians on the street screamed and hurried back, forming a wide circle around them. A hate burned behind Tony's eyes as he took in the men, as his eyes focused in on the steel pressed against Peter's sensitive skin. Peter tilted his head back to avoid the blade, blinking quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What the hell is this?" Tony asked quietly, arms slowly being lifted in response to the gun held out toward him. His eyes found Peter's. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You okay? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Peter wasn't able to respond, too focused on the unnatural feeling of metal against his skin, the sight of the gun aimed at his father.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is our insurance, Stark," Peter's captor said. Peter could feel the rumblings in the man's chest when he spoke, pressed against his own back. "We want money."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've got it," Tony answered without hesitation. "Let him go and you'll get anything you want."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not only that," the one with the gun added. "We want blueprints." Tony's eyes widened marginally, and Peter tensed. He knew this was a request that would be more difficult for Tony to fill, that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>shouldn't</span>
  </em>
  <span> fill - but Peter also knew Tony would do anything for his kid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What blueprints?" Peter could identify the anxiety hidden behind Tony's levity, noticed a tremble in his voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dad, no-" Peter tried to say, but the man gripping him held tighter. Peter felt a sting, and a trail of something wet made its way toward his shirt collar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Quiet, pet," the man shushed in a whispered singsong voice, and Peter suppressed a shiver. Tony's eyes hardened, and he bristled with anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Arc reactor technology," the other answered, as if nothing had happened. Peter squeezed his eyes shut. Of all the requests he could've made, this one was the worst. It was too powerful, had too many uses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Peter knew Tony would give it away in a heartbeat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony's eyes flew to Peter's, and Peter saw the desperation. Peter tried to shake his head, tried to reassure Tony with glances of, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'll be okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but Tony didn't seem sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tick tock, Stark," the man with the gun said, and Tony's head turned back to him as he stepped forward... and pressed the barrel of the gun to Peter's temple. A muscle in Tony's cheek twitched as he snarled, and Peter fought not to move, fought not to react. A knife </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> a gun on him-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"They need me for leverage," he called, voice ringing clear. The knife pressed tighter against his throat. Peter suppressed a shudder. "They won't hurt me, or they'd never get what they want."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That may be right," the one with the knife said, lowering his lips to just beside Peter's ear. Peter shivered. They were too close. "But until Daddy Stark gives us what we want, we can just... take you," he whispered sharply, and Peter flinched at the tone. "I wonder how quickly it’ll take Daddy to cave, hm?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The one with the knife tugged Peter back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony stepped forward, but the gun was trained on him once more and he stopped, lip curling in anger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's okay, Dad," Peter called, forcing his voice to remain light. Tony's panicked eyes found his. He opened his mouth to speak, but Peter shook his head - as much as he could, with the steel to his throat. "I'll be okay. Don't do it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter's captor tugged him backward, and the man with the gun followed slowly after them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's okay," Peter mouthed with a small smile. "It'll be okay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony shook his head sharply. "Peter-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll be okay, I promise."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then, taking strength from his father's fear for him, Peter moved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He raised his heel and kicked it back, hard, into his captor's knee, and the man fell with a groan, knife slicing and leaving a thin trail against Peter's neck. He ignored it and moved quickly, taking advantage of the gunman's shock to step behind him, send a kick to the back of his knee, and twist his arm until he dropped the gun. It clattered to the floor and Peter released the man, chasing instead after the gun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blood rushed loud in his ears as he picked it up off the floor. His hand tingled with the weight of the object within it, the power he held with the tool no one should possess, but he hefted it up anyway, angling it to the man he had just incapacitated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They watched each other for a minute, no one moving, until the man smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Little boy. You won't hurt me. I bet you don't even know how to pull the trigger."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter felt like he was quivering from head to toe, unbalanced on his feet, but he held the gun higher anyway. "Want to bet?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man hesitated - and then, he sprung forward, arms outstretched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter pulled the trigger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He flinched at the noise, eyes going wide as the man stopped, a red patch beginning to bloom on his chest. He fell back as if in slow motion and Peter watched him hit the floor, the gun feeling uncomfortably heavy in his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was another pressure on his back, hands grabbing at his shoulders. Peter didn't even think, jamming his elbow back into the second perpetrator's face and swiveling the gun. He took one look at the man with the knife and fired in a bout of adrenaline, and he fell, two for two. Sacks to the pavement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s breath came in short gasps as he took a shaky step backward, gun swiveling between the two men, now lying on the floor. There was a loud ringing in his ears. Maybe someone was trying to speak to him; he couldn’t be sure, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely </span>
  </em>
  <span>couldn’t make out their words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sirens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The police were coming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They grew louder, noise too loud, blue and red flashing over the scene. The crime scene, the one </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>had created.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shouts from behind him. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Police! Drop the weapon!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Peter looked nervously over his shoulder. A man and a woman were sheltering behind the doors of their police cruisers, guns trained on him. But Peter couldn’t move. He couldn’t look away, he couldn’t drop the gun. He physically couldn’t move, muscles locked in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What if the men got away? What if they went for- for Tony next? Because they couldn’t be dead, not really. Peter couldn’t have- have </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed</span>
  </em>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m going to count to three!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” There was yelling - behind him, and in front of him. Who was in front of him? “</span>
  <em>
    <span>One!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He couldn’t look away. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Two!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” No, wait, more time- he needed more time- “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Thr</span>
  </em>
  <span>-” There was a shadow flying past Peter, situating itself behind him, between him and the police.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter looked back over his shoulder once more. Tony was standing there, his back to Peter, arms outstretched. “Let me talk to him!” Tony was shouting, voice beginning to fade in through the frantic haze that had settled over Peter's mind. “Just let me-” Slowly, he turned, and Peter met his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s eyes were wide and panicked as he inched forward slowly, arms slightly outstretched and reaching for Peter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pete?” His voice trembled as he stepped closer. “Can you- can you give me the gun?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stand down, Stark. We </span>
  <em>
    <span>will </span>
  </em>
  <span>shoot-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop!” Tony screamed back, </span>
  <em>
    <span>screamed</span>
  </em>
  <span>, like Peter had never heard him do before, loud and raw and desperate. “Wait! Just- wait!” He turned back to Peter, and his voice quieted significantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just me, Peter,” he whispered, a small, comforting smile gracing his lips. “Just me and you, kiddo, right here. Just us.” Peter took heavy breaths, looking over Tony’s shoulder to the cops, then trailing down to the bodies in front of him-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t look at them,” Tony said quickly. “Look at me, okay? Right here.” Peter lifted his gaze, his watering eyes. Tony smiled slightly. “Yeah, see that?” Peter nodded slowly, unsure as to what he was agreeing to - but he liked it. It made him feel safe. “Can you give me the gun, buddy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s hands trembled, words barely registering in his mind. He turned, holding the gun out to Tony, but there were shouts from behind him- “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey! Slow!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony flinched. “Slowly, bud, okay?” he tried to say. “Please, just... just slowly turn to me, yeah?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again, Peter’s eyes found the police. They were watching him like he was dangerous, like he was something to be feared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I- I’m not-” he tried to call over to them, but his voice wasn’t loud enough, not over their screams of “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Put the gun down!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” and “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Move, Stark!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony readjusted his stance to block Peter, his shoulders tense, almost like he was frozen mid-flinch. His face was contorted, pained. “It’s okay,” he whispered, but their screams were getting louder. They were counting again. “Look at me, Pete. Only at me. Pass me the gun.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Slowly</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Peter remembered. He began to turn, but he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>too </span>
  </em>
  <span>slow. They were counting, numbers dropping too fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony leaned forward and met Peter in the middle, gently encompassing Peter’s smaller hands in his own larger ones and beginning to slide the gun from beneath them. He flinched as Peter’s limp finger fell against the trigger with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>thud</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but he kept pulling, and, as Peter’s worried eyes fixed on his, he pulled the gun free.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright!” he shouted, holding the gun by the barrel as he lifted his hands above his head. He turned back toward the cops, whose guns were still raised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Toss us the gun,” the woman instructed, and Tony obeyed, throwing it across the floor. He turned to Peter instantly after, tugging Peter tightly to his chest in a messy hold that only meant, </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re alive. It’s over</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter sobbed against him, hands clutching onto Tony’s back. “I killed them,” he whispered. “I killed-” His head turned to the side but Tony caught it in time, shielding Peter’s eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t look,” he murmured, tucking Peter’s head to his chest and under his chin. “Don’t look. Here, I’ve got you. You’re okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s sobs didn’t subside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony gently reached for Peter’s hand and pulled it to his chest. “Here, you feel that?” Peter sniffled, cries quieting. After a moment he nodded quickly, feeling Tony’s heartbeat under his palm. It was too fast, </span>
  <em>
    <span>way </span>
  </em>
  <span>too fast, but probably slower than Peter’s own. “You’re okay,” Tony whispered, hands tightening around Peter. The position was probably painful for Peter, being squeezed so tightly, and Tony’s muscles were tense, but he didn’t think either of them minded. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stark, step away from the boy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony met the eyes of the cop over Peter’s head. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to take him into custody. He murdered these two men.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter flinched in Tony’s hold, and Tony placed a hand on the back of his head. “It was self-defense-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's not up to you to decide.” Tony froze. “Step away from him of your own volition, or we will move you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony took a deep breath, moving down to look Peter in the eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re going to go with the officer now, alright, Pete?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter’s worried eyes met Tony’s and he shook his head frantically. “No, don’t wanna-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Tony squeezed his eyes shut and cursed the system. “I know, but I’ll be right behind you, okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter clung tighter to Tony’s arms. “Dad, please, I don’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The officer reached forward and grabbed Peter around the shoulders as their partner joined them, easing Tony back. Peter’s eyes grew wide and his arms flailed out for Tony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad, no-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony’s heart felt like it was shattering into a million pieces as he blinked back tears. “Go with the officers, Peter, it’ll be okay-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Tony heard the scraping of metal.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Metal</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They were handcuffing his son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter heard it, too. His movements grew more panicked and he frantically reached out an arm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tony grabbed it between them. “It’s okay, Petey-Pie, I promise,” he whispered. “Stay calm. It’ll be okay. Do what they tell you, alright? I’ll come find you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter sniffled as the cop pulled his arm away, and he lost contact with Tony. “Promise?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Tony smiled. “I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He watched as the cops loaded Peter in the back of their car, saw his child’s wide eyes through the glass. He barely waited a second before he got into his own car and chased after them, following them to the police station.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He made a promise, and he’d be damned if he let anyone hurt his kid.</span>
</p>
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